


Breadcrumbs

by honeyMellon



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyMellon/pseuds/honeyMellon
Summary: A talented young artist trying to make it big, Ichigo Kurosaki is known for being a bit of a recluse. When friends finally manage to take him out to a club to live a little, he finds himself smack in the middle of something more exciting, and much, much more dangerous, than his fantasy worlds.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been reading a lot of yaoi on a different site lately. They're not fanfiction, most of them written by male authors. It's really fascinating, partly because they're so different and so much more...I dunno, raw? I don't want to say crude because it's not, even though the language is more descriptive and probably leagues more anatomically accurate.
> 
> Anyway, I was inspired after reading them, and now I'm itching to write. This is a new multi-chapter, though won't be very long. Progress might be a little slow but I hope you guys will find it interesting. :)

 

"Aw, shit!"

Startled by the sound of the doorbell, Ichigo jerked in his seat, his right knee smashing into the desk and knocking over his inkwell. He could only stare, aghast, at the spreading pool of black ink as it seeped into his drawing.

"Fuck!"

"Yes! I thought you'd never ask!"

"Shinji…" Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose.

His best friend, Hirako Shinji, stood at the door to his study, one hand on his hip and a wide grin on his face. Ichigo groaned when he saw Shinji's outfit. Bright yellow button-down shirt, pink checkered tie, and purple skinny jeans; Shinji was as flamboyant as they came and was not afraid to flaunt it.

"Come on, Ichi, why are you still in your pajamas?" Shinji complained, wagging his finger. "We were supposed to be at the club," he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes ago!"

Ichigo rubbed his face. Of course, it was Friday night. He had completely forgotten, lost in his fantasy world of ancient Japanese swordsmen and their sexy escapades. A talented artist, Ichigo was an amateur mangaka with a dozen or so yaoi doujinshi under his belt. His dream was to have his work picked up by a publishing house and finally earning money for his hard work. As it was, he was barely making ends meet. Bar hopping through the night was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he would never hear the end of it if he bailed.

"Ichi…"

Grumbling under his breath, Ichigo grudgingly got up to get dressed. So what if he was still in his pajamas? It wasn't as if he had to see anybody during the day.

Half an hour later, they were finally lining up to enter _Riot_ , the busiest dance club in town. It wasn't _officially_ a gay bar, but Ichigo knew it was a popular place to pick up your next trick. He had done it once or twice, only because he was frustrated with artist's block and was desperate for an outlet. Hooking up with random men wasn't exactly his idea of a healthy hobby.

He was sweating by the time they got in, and the noise and heady smell of the place immediately hit him like a punch in the gut. Everywhere he looked, there were people gyrating to the god awful techno music.

Carefully dodging the other sweaty bodies around them, the two of them made their way to the bar. Renji and Shuuhei were already there and looked about half way through their second round of drinks.

"Thought you weren't going to show up!" Renji yelled over the music as Ichigo hopped onto a stool beside him.

Shinji rolled his eyes. "I had to tear his sorry ass from his precious drawings or he'd never come."

Ichigo ignored them both. He was used to it by now. His friends were always complaining that he was becoming a recluse at the ripe old age of twenty two. Instead, he turned and surveyed the sea of people on the dance floor with a critical eye.

It was a typical Friday night. The club was packed full of young people, mostly guys. More than a few looked two steps away from fucking, the way they were grinding against each other. After a moment Ichigo looked away, not finding anyone particularly interesting.

Shit. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Some time between his third and fourth beer, Ichigo allowed himself to be dragged out to join the crowd. He paired off with Shinji, as usual, and let the music carry him away.

He was laughing at Shinji's silly antics when he accidentally bumped into someone behind him. Jerking away, he turned around to apologize...and promptly froze.

Right in front of him was the most perfect specimen of manhood he had ever seen. The man was taller than Ichigo, his leather jacket snug around wide shoulders and a well defined chest. Wavy black hair, styled in a rugged bedhead, framed an angular face. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, full lips, and most of all, those piercing blue eyes...Ichigo couldn't look away if his life depended on it.

The spell was broken when the man smirked. Blinking, Ichigo blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he managed to croak.

"No problem," the stranger drawled, his voice low and a little raspy.

Ichigo shuddered. That voice...shit, it had gone straight from his ears to his cock, apparently.

His reaction didn't go unnoticed. The man chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that made Ichigo's skin break out in goosebumps. In a good way. Or not. He was so embarrassed he wanted the floor to swallow him up. Anything to save him from this disaster. It was just his luck; he'd finally found someone he wouldn't mind hooking up with, and here he was acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl.

Determined to redeem himself, Ichigo flashed the stranger a smile. "Wanna dance?"

The man hesitated for a second, then grinned. He moved closer to Ichigo, close enough for their hands to brush against each other. Shinji gave Ichigo a thumbs up and a wink, and went off to find a new partner.

It was a little awkward at first, their moves out of sync as they danced, but soon enough they were pressed up against each other. The man had his knee comfortably tucked between Ichigo's legs, his crotch nudging Ichigo's hip to the beat of the music. Ichigo bit back a moan when he felt the sizable bulge against his hip bone. He was hard as a rock, too, and it was becoming impossible to focus on anything but the need burning in his gut.

"Wanna get out of here?" It was as if the man could read his mind.

Not bothering to try to yell over the music, Ichigo nodded.

It was a relief when they finally squeezed their way through the crowd and out into fresh air. Ichigo sucked in a deep breath with a gasp and laughed when his dance partner did the same. The man grinned back and draped an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, pulling him close.

"So…" Ichigo began, blushing again and suddenly feeling a little self conscious under the glare of the streetlights. He was acutely aware of the man's warmth and intoxicating scent, and it made his cock throb longingly.

"Your place," the stranger purred in his ear.

Ichigo shivered as a puff of warm, moist breath fanned across his cheek. It smelled faintly of cigarette and mint, a combination that, oddly, only turned him on more. He nodded.

* * *

The Uber driver gave Ichigo a knowing smile and a wink when he dropped them off. Normally, this would've made Ichigo mortified, but he was too distracted to do anything but smile back stupidly.

The entire ride back to his apartment was torture. They sat hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Any closer and Ichigo would be sitting in the guy's lap. Yet they were too aware of their audience to do anything frisky. The sexual tension was so thick that Ichigo was certain their driver could taste it.

It felt like forever before the elevator arrived. The moment the doors slid closed, the man pounced. Pushed harshly against the wall, Ichigo gasped in surprise, then let out a startled moan when a pair of hot and eager lips descended on his. And _oh god_ , could this guy kiss. He took advantage of Ichigo's parted lips and his tongue delved expertly inside, sliding against Ichigo's, teasing him and pushing him until Ichigo melted into his arms. Rough hands tugged at Ichigo's shirt until they popped out the waistband of his jeans, then those hands were scrambling across his bare skin, struggling to slip past his waistband. Ichigo let out a curse; it was too tight. He was wearing his favorite pair of skinny jeans and there was no way anything thicker than a piece of paper was going to fit in there.

The man let out a frustrated growl, then gave up and promptly went to the front and tried to undo his fly. Ichigo laughed giddily, amused by the other man's urgency.

And just then, the elevator doors slid open with a whoosh. They stared dumbly at it for a few seconds, the sound interrupting their haze of lust, then Ichigo came to his senses and grabbed the man's hand.

"Come," Ichigo urged with a laugh.

They half ran, half stumbled down the hallway. Ichigo fumbled with the lock, then they spilled inside, their limbs in a tangle. The door closed with a bang and Ichigo found himself pressed up against the wall again. He moaned helplessly into the man's mouth before he could stop himself. He had never been kissed so thoroughly, so passionately, in his life, and never imagined he would experience this with a one-night stand. He felt a brief tug of disappointment. He could get used to this, but who was he kidding? This time tomorrow they would've parted ways and most likely never see each other again.

"You're so hot…" the man purred, breaking their kiss to nibble on Ichigo's earlobe.

"Ichigo," Ichigo gasped.

A low chuckle, then the lips were sliding down his neck. "You're so hot, Ichigo…"

Ichigo shivered. Damn! That voice. The man could be reading off a grocery list and Ichigo would still get hard. "So are you," he said breathlessly.

For a moment, Ichigo thought his would-be bedmate would not offer a name, then the man murmured, "Greg."

"Well, Greg," Ichigo pushed the man off and led the way to his bedroom, curling a finger in the universal "come and get me" sign. "I think we should take this somewhere more...comfortable, don't you think?"

Greg grinned, and followed.

They crashed into the bed, both eager to get back in action. Ichigo landed on his back and was immediately pinned by Greg, the man's larger, heavier, frame a comfortable weight on top of him. They stared at each other, noting their matching flushed faces and lust-glazed eyes, and then it was as if a switch was flipped. They sprang apart and started undressing. Ichigo tossed his shirt over Greg's head, then cursed as he struggled out of his too-tight jeans. Once that was out of the way, he lunged across the bed to his bedside table and grabbed his handy bottle of lube and a condom.

Then his eyes laid on Greg and he stopped, his mouth hanging open. The man was gorgeous; smooth, flawless tanned skin over toned pecs and a well defined six-pack. His biceps, flexing as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, were strong and beautifully muscled. He wasn't going to win any bodybuilding contests but he was ripped enough to showcase hours and hours of hard work at the gym. Ichigo wasn't flabby by any means, but he was more lanky and narrower overall. He got his physique from swimming and martial arts, not the weight room.

"Like what you see?" Greg husked, a note of amusement in his voice. He was completely naked now, and he was looking at Ichigo much like the way Ichigo had been feasting on him. Once again Ichigo was struck by Greg's piercing gaze; his eyes shockingly blue even in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

Ichigo blushed, but he was horny enough to overcome his shyness. "Yes," he growled, slowly stalking towards Greg on all fours. "Yes," he grabbed the back of Greg's head and crushed their lips together. "I like it _very_ much."

Greg let out a deep, rumbling groan and tore his mouth away. He started attacking Ichigo's neck, collarbone, then, with a hard shove, pushed Ichigo onto his back once more. He towered over Ichigo and leered at him.

"Oh yeah? Well, I like _this_ ," Greg traced his fingers around Ichigo's nipples, wrenching a startled hiss from him. "And _this_ ," those fingers moved southward, tickling Ichigo's flat stomach, dipping into his belly button, then came to a stop just shy of his aching cock. "And definitely... _this_."

"Shit!" Ichigo cried out when a hot, wet mouth closed over his dick. He felt Greg grin around it, then the man started sucking, hollowing his cheeks then using his tongue to tease the throbbing vein on the underside of it. Ichigo moaned, arching his back. This was perfect, _oh god_ , Greg was good and was clearly enjoying this just as much. Lewd slurping noises filled Ichigo's ears, and he could feel the bed shaking and realized that Greg was jacking himself off.

"Ohhh...oh fuck, _fuck_!" Ichigo writhed, vaguely aware that he was thrusting into Greg's mouth. Then all of a sudden the precious heat was gone, and Greg surged upwards. Ichigo tasted himself on the other man's tongue and moaned.

"Soon, babe, soon," Greg purred. And then he was back, his mouth wrapped snugly around Ichigo's cock and working up and down the rigid shaft, leaving Ichigo's cock shiny with his spit.

There was a soft "pop" of a cap's bottle, followed by a lewd squirting sound, then slick, cold fingers nudged at Ichigo's entrance, massaging the sensitive hole and slowly coaxing it open. Ichigo shuddered and lifted his hips, rocking back against Greg's exploring digits. He heard Greg groan, then those fingers slid smoothly inside. His nerves endings lit up as they stretched him open, his muscles fluttering around Greg, and he threw his head back moaned loudly, his voice shaky and thick with desire.

"Yeah, baby," Greg's voice was hoarse. The man was panting, and he was nuzzling Ichigo's cock and flicking his tongue over the head now and then. The whole time his hand never stopped, fucking Ichigo with his fingers, spreading him wide open, getting him loose and ready for the main event.

After a few more minutes of this torture, Ichigo couldn't hold back any longer. He fumbled blindly for the condom and tossed it to Greg. "Need you now," he croaked, shocked and a little embarrassed by how needy he sounded. But he was getting desperate, his body was burning up, and his heart pounded like it wanted to burst out his chest.

He watched as Greg expertly rolled on the condom. The man's cock was gorgeous, just like every other inch of him. The lubed latex sheath glistened, stretched to its max around the impressive member. It was magnificent, probably the biggest Ichigo had ever taken so far, and the sight of it so hard for him made his blood boil with anticipation. Greg got into position, his knees nudging Ichigo's thighs apart.

"Ready?" Greg asked, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide with lust.

Ichigo nodded and lifted his hips. He felt the thick, blunt head slide between his ass cheeks, Greg dragging it teasingly up and down Ichigo's crack. He drizzled more lube over his cock and smeared it around Ichigo's relaxed hole, then, he pushed.

They let out matching moans as he slid inside slowly. Ichigo's legs trembled. Even as prepared as he was, it burned, and he gasped and gripped Greg's biceps.

"Oh shit, you're so tight, baby," Greg groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. He rocked his hips, going deeper with every thrust, until their bodies were finally pressed flush against each other. A small bead of sweat trailed down from his temple, and Ichigo watched it slide slowly down Greg's jawline to drip onto his chest. Ichigo cursed at the injustice; how could this man make sweating look so sexy?

And it wasn't just sweating, of course. _Everything_ he was doing now was driving Ichigo crazy. This was insane; he was so hard that it fucking hurt, and he couldn't do anything about it because Greg had pinned his arms to the bed, stretched above his head. Ichigo bucked, arching his back, pushing his cock into Greg's belly in search for friction. Tears of frustration threatened to spill.

Greg was really pounding into him by now, his cock pistoning in and out of Ichigo, hard and fast and pushing Ichigo closer and closer towards the edge. Ichigo howled as thrust after thrust battered his prostate. Blood roared in his ears, blocking out Greg's cries. Then his cock was suddenly enveloped in a scorching hot fist, and it started pumping up and down his swollen length, the friction so sweet, so perfect, exactly what Ichigo needed and craved. He felt his orgasm build, welling from deep inside him and blazing through his body in waves, all the way to the tip of his fingers and toes and spilling out of him in a rush. He gasped, his body trembling as the pleasure ran its course.

Greg groaned in his ear. The man's breath was hot and fast against Ichigo's neck and he could feel Greg's dick start to swell inside him, then with a shout, the man went rigid, his hips jerking as he filled the condom.

The room went quiet, their earlier cries of passion replaced with soft pants as the two of them recovered their breaths. Ichigo felt faint, partly from what was the best orgasm of his life yet, and partly from being crushed beneath Greg. He nudged at the man's arm until Greg finally rolled off of him.

"Damn," Greg muttered with a laugh. "I think you broke me."

" _I_ broke _you_?" Ichigo snorted. He shifted a bit and hissed at the satisfying ache in his rear. He was going to feel this for a few days, and he loved it.

They lay in silence for a while. It was comfortable, and as he rested, Ichigo replayed their coupling in his head, filing the memory away to revisit when he needed new material for his manga. Shit, why couldn't he pick up someone like Greg all the time? His mind was officially blown.

"Can I stay?"

Ichigo raised an eyebrow in surprise. Now that was a first. His past flings couldn't get out of bed fast enough after fucking him, but it looked like Greg was defying his every expectation.

"Yeah, sure," Ichigo replied. He rolled to his side and watched Greg yawn. He smiled. The man looked adorable with his face all scrunched up.

They settled down and scooted closer to each other. Greg spooned up against Ichigo, his arm a welcome weight around Ichigo's waist. Ichigo found himself smiling. This felt nice. Different. He hadn't cuddled for a long time, not since his first relationship a few years ago. Byakuya was great in bed, but he wasn't much of a cuddler. Ichigo didn't realize how much he enjoyed this.

Behind him, Greg's breathing evened out. Ichigo snuggled deeper into the covers, closed his eyes, and let sleep pull him under.

* * *

Ichigo woke up to the sound of the shower running. He blinked, rolling over and immediately wincing when his ass protested. Then he remembered the previous night and grinned.

Since Greg was already up, Ichigo figured he might as well get out of bed. It was too bad; he would've loved to take care of his raging morning wood with Greg.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Ichigo padded into the kitchen to make coffee. He was going to need it. They had woken up some time during the night. Sleepy sex had never felt that good.

As he turned on his Keurig coffee maker, Ichigo absently turned on the TV. It was a habit of his, to have the news channel on while he sipped his first cup of joe.

"...already wanted for the murder of his partner, Detective Grimmjow Jaegerjaques is now believed to be responsible for the murder of local drug dealer Nnoitra Jiruga. Detective Jaegerjaques has been on the run for the past forty eight hours. We urge anyone who've seen this man to please call the number on the screen. Do not approach the suspect as he is armed and dangerous, and I repeat, he is armed and dangerous."

The mug slipped through Ichigo's slack fingers and shattered on the floor. On the screen, the photograph of Detective Jaegerjaques showed a strikingly handsome man in his early thirties. Blue hair, high cheekbones, angular jaw, and a familiar pair of piercing blue eyes.

* * *

**To be continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the kind reviews! They totally made my day! Nothing beats waking up and finding them waiting for me in my mailbox. :) So, thank you again!
> 
> It seems my muse is sticking around for a bit, so I'd better take advantage of it while I can! Here's another update for ya. Hope to hear from you guys!

 

Greg. Detective Jaegerjaques was Greg. _Greg_. Oh god.

Ichigo was freaking out. He'd just slept with this man, this…this _murderer_ who was apparently _armed_ and _dangerous_. He staggered a bit and gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. God. A cold-blooded murderer was just _inside him_ not four hours ago, and he had loved every minute of it. He felt sick.

"Hey Ichigo, you got an extra toothbrush?"

Greg - no, _Grimmjow_ \- stood at the entrance to the kitchen, a towel wrapped low around his hips. His hair was freshly washed, matted to his scalp, and rivulets of water dripped from it onto his shoulders and pecs. He looked normal. Harmless. And every bit as gorgeous as Ichigo remembered from yesterday.

"Ichigo?"

Ichigo snapped back to his senses. His mind was blank, he was panicking and had no idea what to say. Should he admit that he knew who Grimmjow really was? Or maybe it was safer for him to just play dumb and hope that Grimmjow would leave soon?

Too late, the TV made the decision for him.

"The manhunt is currently underway and police has blocked off North 1st Street, where Detective Jaegerjaques was last seen. The public are advised to stay calm but avoid that area until it is secured."

Grimmjow stared at the TV, then at Ichigo, who had gone white as sheet.

"Well, shit."

Ichigo scrambled to the other side of the counter when Grimmjow took one step into the kitchen.

"Stop! Don't come any closer!" Ichigo demanded. His voice came out a little higher than he liked.

Grimmjow looked stricken. "Ichigo, I didn't...I can explain…" He looked like he was going to take another step closer, but reconsidered when Ichigo scooted further away. "Ichigo, please."

Ichigo's back hit the fridge and he froze. There was nowhere else to go. His phone was still in his room and Grimmjow was in the way. He eyed his knife drawer, biting his lip and trying hard not to give in to his weak knees.

"Ichigo, let me explain." Grimmjow was still begging, but he hadn't moved from his last position. He stood there, at the doorway, looking at Ichigo pleadingly.

Ichigo stared back at him, then his eyes darted to the knife drawer again. No, it was too far. It was too risky. Ichigo was sure Grimmjow would be faster with whatever weapon he had. It didn't matter that he was naked except for the flimsy towel right now; Ichigo was beyond rational thought by this point. Stall. That's right. He could try stalling and wait for a chance to run.

"So explain!" he yelled, channeling all his fear into anger. It came out surprisingly convincing; to his own ears, at least.

Grimmjow's shoulders sagged in relief, and his eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. He ran his fingers over his hair, tugging at it, then cleared his throat.

"I didn't kill my partner, I swear. By the time I got to him, he was...he was already dead. He called me, said he was in danger and he had some evidence that he wanted me to see, but by the time I got to his house he was already gone." There was sharp pain in Grimmjow's eyes. "There was so much blood. They blew out his brains." His voice hitched. "I couldn't save him."

When Ichigo simply stared at him, Grimmjow continued.

"We've been investigating a case recently. Serious shit involving drug trafficking and evidence tampering, and he...he thinks our people had something to do with it." He started pacing. "He thinks there are bad cops among us, but he doesn't know who. I didn't believe him, but then this happened and I…he must've gotten closer to the truth than he realized," Grimmjow shook his head. "Since I discovered his body, they took me in to give a statement, but before I knew it, I was being arrested. I couldn't believe it. Those are my people. I would take a bullet for every single one of them anyday, but they arrested me like I was some dirty cop."

Grimmjow slammed his fist into the wall and grunted in frustration.

"The only guy who gave me a chance was Shawlong. We used to serve together at the army and he believed me. He asked me to make it look like I overpowered him so I…"

"You killed him too?!"

Grimmjow's jaw dropped. "Fuck, no! He gave me his taser. Guy's going to be real sore for a couple of days but he'll live. I got out of there and have been running since then…"

Ichigo took a deep breath. He wanted to believe the story, he really did. It would make him feel a lot better knowing that he wasn't just fucked by a cold blooded murderer. But he knew nothing about this man except that he was sexy as fuck and gave fantastic head. The whole thing sounded like something right out of a Hollywood movie, though. Did this kind of thing actually happen in real life?

And then something occurred to him.

"What the hell were you doing hooking up at a club if you're running for your life?" Ichigo demanded in disbelief.

"I didn't mean to, okay? I was there to meet my contact, but he never showed. Then I saw you, and...well, you know the rest."

"Your contact...is it...Jiruga?"

Grimmjow's eyes widened comically. "Yeah... how'd you know?"

"Well, he's dead. You offed him, apparently."

"What! What the hell do you mean?"

Ichigo pointed to the TV. "It was in the news."

"Fuck!" Grimmjow pulled at his hair and started pacing again, like an animal trapped in a cage. He was agitated, clearly, and...afraid. Ichigo could see that in the man's posture, in his shaking hands.

Just like that, it was suddenly clear. Ichigo realized he believed the man. Grimmjow was telling the truth. Maybe Ichigo was naive to think this, but he'd always listened to his instincts. Right now his gut was telling him that the detective was innocent.

"You're being framed," Ichigo blurted.

Grimmjow raised an eyebrow. "No shit," he deadpanned, and then immediately, his eyes lit up. "Wait, you...you believe me?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said, surprised by the conviction in his own voice. "Call me crazy, but I do."

Grimmjow broke into a big smile. Ichigo's stomach fluttered at the sight of it. God, that man was beautiful, he could really get used to seeing this everyday. Then he caught himself. What the hell was he thinking? Grimmjow was a fugitive, and the last thing Ichigo wanted was to get involved with something so complicated. He loved his simple life. Adventures like this belonged in his manga.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked, to get his mind off of his attraction to the detective.

Grimmjow hesitated. He chewed his lip, frowning. "Well," he said slowly. "After I left the station, I went to one of our safe houses. There, I found something Ulquiorra left me."

When Ichigo raised an eyebrow, Grimmjow clarified, "My partner. It was a small USB drive, but it's encrypted. Without my laptop I can't access it."

"I have a computer," Ichigo offered.

"Thanks, but I need a special program to open it. It's something Ulquiorra cooked up. Said he knew it'll come in handy one day." Grimmjow sighed. "I just didn't expect…anyway, he left a note with the drive. All it said was to look for Jiruga. So I came here. We agreed to meet at Riot, but in the end he never showed."

"Yeah, being dead does that to you," Ichigo said dryly.

Grimmjow snorted before frowning again. "Fuck, now that my mug is on TV it's going to be harder to get around." He tugged at his hair. "A simple dye job isn't going to cut it this time."

Ichigo's heart started pounding faster. It was right on the tip of his tongue, but he gritted his teeth to stop himself from blurting it out loud. The truth was, he knew someone who could probably crack the USB drive, except, telling Grimmjow about it would just drag him deeper into this mess.

Yeah, he should just keep his mouth shut. Grimmjow was a detective, and he looked like a smart guy. He'd figure this out.

But then Ichigo stole a look at Grimmjow and his heart softened. The man looked beat, his face suddenly haggard, weighed down by distress over the latest turn of events. Without Jiruga and no way to access his partner's drive, he was stuck.

"I know someone who can help."

* * *

Ichigo tried not to laugh when he saw Grimmjow's expression. They were standing in front of a shabby looking house and Grimmjow was looking at it like it was something out of a horror movie.

Ichigo knocked on the door three times. Cheesy, he knew, but Kisuke had always been eccentric, and somehow he found this amusing. For a few moments they were greeted only with silence, then a latch on the door slid opened. A single eye appeared at the hole.

"Who's this?"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You know it's me, Kisuke. As if you didn't see us on your surveillance feed already."

"Well, duh, I know who you are," Kisuke drawled. His eye darted over to Grimmjow, who was staring at the latch in bewilderment. "I meant who is _this_ delicious looking piece of meat?"

Grimmjow's mouth fell open in shock while Ichigo howled in laughter. Trust Kisuke to perv on a stranger upon their first meeting. "He's a friend," Ichigo replied, giving Grimmjow a reassuring smile. "We need your help."

"Hmm."

Ichigo scowled. "So are you going to let us in or what?"

The latch slammed closed, then after what sounded like a dozen locks being disengaged, the front door swung open to reveal a blond-haired, middle aged man. He squinted against the sunlight and grinned at the two of them.

"Since you asked so nicely," he said cheerfully. He stepped aside, and Ichigo breezed past him into the house.

Grimmjow followed closely behind, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder. Kisuke's house was, in a word, strange. The decor was an interior designer's nightmare, yet the clash of colors and mismatched furniture suited Kisuke somehow. It was just like the man himself; colorful, disorganized chaos mixed together to make a brilliant mind.

Ichigo had known Kisuke since...well, since he was a baby, he supposed. Kisuke and Ichigo's father were close friends, and when Ichigo and his sisters were growing up, Kisuke had always been that crazy uncle figure in their lives. He wasn't sure what exactly Kisuke did for a living all these years, but one thing he was certain: if it was even remotely related to computers, nothing can beat Urahara Kisuke.

Kisuke ushered them to his kitchen and proceeded to make a pot of tea. As he pottered around, he asked casually, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world, "So, how can I help you, Detective Jaegerjaques?"

Grimmjow jolted so much that he nearly knocked Ichigo off his barstool.

"You knew!" Ichigo cried, annoyed but honestly, not surprised. He should've known. Of course Kisuke would have seen the news.

"Yes, I knew," Kisuke said, looking at Grimmjow intently. "I'd recognize you anywhere, detective. You really should do more than dyeing your hair, you know. Just saying."

Grimmjow calmed down when it looked like Kisuke wasn't going to call the police. He glanced at Ichigo, who nodded. Reaching into his jacket, he brought out a small USB drive and placed it on the counter. He pushed it towards Kisuke.

"I need to decrypt this."

Kisuke eyed the object and raised his eyebrows. "And why should I help you?"

"Kisuke…"

Grimmjow held out a hand. "It's okay, Ichigo. It's a fair question." He held Kisuke's eyes and let out a long breath. "If you're going to harbor a fugitive, you deserve to know the truth. I guess I'd better start from the beginning…"

Half an hour later, the three of them were huddled around Kisuke's computer. The man typed away at his keyboard, his brows drawn together as he frowned at the screen. Ichigo had no idea what Kisuke was doing, but he trusted the man when he assured them that he could crack this.

"Just one more minute…" Kisuke wiped his brow. He looked surprised and slightly impressed by the challenge. "Your partner is one talented man, Detective Jaegerjaques."

Grimmjow smiled, but Ichigo could see the undercurrent of grief in the man's eyes. "Yeah, that's Ulquiorra for you. He can be a real asshole sometimes, but you can't say he's not smart. He's always careful, too, always had a backup plan to his backup plan...but I guess this time he bit off more than he could chew."

"So tell me about his suspicions," Kisuke said, peering at Grimmjow over his reading glasses.

For a moment, Grimmjow looked conflicted. He looked Kisuke, then at Ichigo, who was staring at him expectantly. "Well, alright, I did say you deserve to know the truth," Grimmjow sighed. "So three months ago, we arrested a couple of guys from the lower Hyde District. Bad folks, those are. Drugs, prostitution, you name it, they had a hand in it." He shook his head. "We processed them, Ulquiorra and I, but the next day, they were found dead in their cell. We hadn't even gotten all their statements yet."

Ichigo gasped.

"It looked like they had killed each other in a fight, but nobody heard anything, you know? And the surveillance feed from that area was mysteriously missing," Grimmjow continued. "It just didn't add up. Without them, our investigation hit a dead end. Ulquiorra was furious. Said this was an inside job. But we had no proof."

"Over the next few weeks, our contacts kept disappearing, one by one. We didn't find any bodies but we knew someone was cleaning house. I thought it was some dispute between the drug lords, it's not like it hadn't happened before. But Ulquiorra was not convinced, and he was determined to find out who's responsible."

Grimmjow tightened his fists. "Then about a month ago, he told me he found his evidence. He wouldn't tell me how he got it or what it was. He said it wasn't safe, that the less I know, the safer I was. We had a fight, naturally, but I got nowhere. Ulquiorra kept it all to himself and said he was almost done. Just one final piece, the one that would finally identify who the mastermind is, then he'll take everything to our captain."

"But he never got his chance," Kisuke muttered. He was staring at his screen. "Detective, you'll want to see this."

Grimmjow leaned forward, eyes wide. Ulquiorra was on the screen, his face impassive. Ichigo suppressed a shudder as he pictured the man in a puddle of blood, his head blown to bits as Grimmjow had described.

Kisuke clicked Play.

"Hello, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra began, then paused. A brief flash of sadness appeared in his eyes before he closed them with a sigh. "At the risk of sounding cliched, if you're viewing this video, it means that I have failed. And, most likely dead."

Ichigo watched as Grimmjow bowed his head.

"As you already know, I've been in contact with someone recently. He was the one who gave me the first piece of the puzzle." Ulquiorra's lips tugged upwards into a small smile. "And no, I'm not telling you who he is."

Grimmjow snorted and mumbled something that sounded a lot like "asshole".

"I have proof that those men were murdered. I have the missing surveillance feed. To reduce the risk of them being found, I have sent edited copies of them to a few of my most trusted informants."

"I need you to find them, Grimmjow. This is bigger than me, bigger than both of us, so I need you to forget about avenging my death." Ulquiorra paused. Clearly he knew his partner very well. Ichigo could tell, from the way Grimmjow's fists were tightening, that revenge was at the top of his mind. "The thing is, Grimmjow, I have reason to suspect that whoever is responsible for this, is also responsible for the murder of Detective Coyote Starrk."

Grimmjow jerked in surprise.

"You remember him, surely? Brown hair, goatee, always looking like he's going to fall asleep at any moment? Yeah, him. Remember how he was found dead a year ago? They said he overdosed from sleeping pills because he couldn't handle his daughter's death, but that is not true."

On the screen, Ulquiorra shifted. He looked sad. "My contact said he was one of them, but after he lost his daughter in a car accident, he decided to quit. Said it was karma and that he wanted to go clean. He was going to expose them all."

"It's been going on for that long, Grimmjow. A year, maybe longer, right under our fucking noses." A note of anger entered the detective's voice finally. "We have to catch him, Grimmjow. Start with Jiruga. He has a copy of the video, but only the first two minutes of it. He'll tell you where to find the next video."

"Goodbye, dear friend. I know I'm not the easiest person to work with, but I truly enjoyed our time as partners. You're the closest thing I have to a brother, so please, be careful." Ulquiorra took a deep breath, and his large green eyes looked intently into the camera. " _Don't trust anyone_."

With that, the screen went dark. For the longest moment, nobody said anything, and then Grimmjow let out a loud yell and staggered backwards, his face scrunched up in anguish. Ichigo rushed to him and caught him just as he slid down the wall, holding his head in his hands.

"Is it really worth dying for, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow whispered.

Ichigo looked to Kisuke for help, but the blond-haired man simply shook his head. Grimmjow needed this. With all that happened in the past few days, he hadn't had the chance to properly grieve for his partner. The reality of losing a close friend was finally hitting him, and he needed time to deal with it. There was nothing Ichigo and Kisuke could do to ease the pain.

Kisuke got up and took off his glasses. He looked tired, and sad, for the detective who had given his life for justice and for the man who was now asked to bear the burden of finishing what he had started.

"Rest here tonight," Kisuke offered. "Tomorrow we will figure out what to do with Jiruga."

Grimmjow said nothing, but Ichigo nodded. He held Grimmjow, who seemed to have shut down emotionally after his outburst. The striking blue eyes that Ichigo had come to love were cold and hollow as the man processed his partner's parting message.

After a few minutes, Ichigo stood to leave, figuring that he should give Grimmjow some privacy to grieve. He opened the door carefully.

"Don't go."

Ichigo hesitated. Grimmjow was looking at him, his eyes bloodshot but dry. For now. Ichigo could tell the man was trying hard to hold it back.

"Stay," Grimmjow said hoarsely. "Please."

The door clicked closed softly, and Ichigo returned to Grimmjow's side. "Of course," he whispered, then moaned as Grimmjow tilted his head back and drew him in for a kiss. He climbed into Grimmjow's lap.

By the time they broke apart for air, Ichigo's lips were red and swollen. He panted, his heart racing a mile a minute. He could feel the head of his cock beginning to strain against the zipper. Hands tugged at his t-shirt.

"Grimmjow…"

Grimmjow silenced him, crushing their mouths together again, and this time, when Grimmjow reached for his t-shirt again, Ichigo helped him. They threw it aside, then, together, freed Ichigo's cock from the confines of his jeans. Ichigo let out a hiss when Grimmjow closed his fist around it and started stroking. He rocked against Grimmjow, feeling the man's answering bulge. Grimmjow groaned when Ichigo rubbed him through his clothes, but stopped him when Ichigo tried to undo his zipper.

"I want you to come for me," Grimmjow growled.

He didn't have to wait long. Ichigo bucked in his lap, throwing his head back when Grimmjow gripped his ass and dipped his fingers between the cheeks. They found Ichigo's tender hole and rubbed it, not penetrating but just applying the right pressure and friction to drive Ichigo into a frenzy.

"Come for me, Ichigo, now…"

Ichigo flew over the edge with a cry. His arms tightened around Grimmjow's neck and he shot, painting Grimmjow's shirt with his seed. Grimmjow kept stroking his cock until he teased out every last drop, until Ichigo sagged against him, utterly spent.

"Hey. You okay?"

Ichigo raised his head and smiled. He liked the way Grimmjow looked at him; it made his stomach flutter, which it had no business doing because they were going to part ways soon. He liked Grimmjow, he really did, but he was just a simple mangaka. He had no place in the detective's exciting life, fugitive or not.

But, it didn't mean he couldn't make the most of their time together. His smile turned coy, and he slid off Grimmjow's lap. He coaxed Grimmjow's legs apart and gently pushed the man onto his back. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled the zipper down. Then he tugged the pair of jeans down, Grimmjow raising his hips to let him pull it all the way to his ankles.

Ichigo bit back a moan. Grimmjow's dick was tenting his underwear, a small wet spot already forming where the head was pressing against the fabric. He reached out and squeezed it, feeling the weight and steel-like hardness of the rigid shaft. Grimmjow groaned and propped himself up onto his elbows to watch.

"You wanna watch me suck you off?" Ichigo whispered seductively. He didn't normally do dirty talk but this felt right. Just as he expected, the detective's eyes darkened with lust.

"Yeah," Grimmjow growled. He yanked his underwear down, and his cock sprang free.

Ichigo moaned at the sight. He crawled over an all fours until he was hovering over it. Licking his lips, he nuzzled the head, breathing in the intoxicating scent that made him hard all over again. His tongue darted out to lap up the pearly bead of precome that had welled from the tip. The heady taste drew another moan from him, and he heard Grimmjow curse.

"Ichigo…"

Ignoring the plea, Ichigo took his sweet time. He explored Grimmjow's dick slowly, teasing the swollen head and dipping his tongue into the slit. When Grimmjow cursed again, he kissed down the rigid length, licking it up and down and enjoying the feeling of the thick vein throbbing against his tongue. He wrapped his hand around the base and started stroking while he slipped further down. Coarse blue curls scratched at Ichigo's cheek as he kissed the soft sacks below.

"Fuck, don't tease me," Grimmjow swore, his voice hoarse. "Ichigo!"

Ichigo finally took pity on the man and took him into his mouth, all the way until the head bumped against the back of his throat. Fighting back the urge to gag, he relaxed his throat and felt Grimmjow slide in another half an inch. Fingers combed through his hair and then tightened, keeping him there. Ichigo knew the man was fighting against the need to thrust from the way Grimmjow's thighs and abs flexed and trembled.

Slowly, Grimmjow relaxed his grip, and Ichigo started bobbing his head. Wrapping his fist around the last couple of inches, he moved it in sync with his mouth, gradually going faster, sucking harder, until the vice-like grip on his hair returned. Grunting, Grimmjow tried to pull him off, but Ichigo refused to budge. Not two seconds later, Grimmjow let out a loud groan, threw his head back, and filled Ichigo's mouth with his release. Ichigo swallowed greedily, moaning as Grimmjow's flavor burst on his tongue. His dick was completely hard again and all he needed was a couple of quick strokes before his second climax claimed him.

They collapsed, both drained and breathing hard. Ichigo buried his face in Grimmjow's thigh and laughed softly. He had never spent such a long time on a blowjob before. His jaw ached like a bitch but it left him with a stupid grin on his face.

"God, Ichigo," Grimmjow said shakily, his fingers playing with Ichigo's hair. "That was…god..."

"Did I break you again?"

Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, I think you did." He looked down and stroked Ichigo's cheek. "Come up here, you."

Grinning like a victor, Ichigo crawled up and rested his head on Grimmjow's shoulder. His heart was still racing. He placed his hand on the detective's chest and felt a pang of happiness when he found a matching beat. He looked up, about to comment on it, when a single teardrop landed on his nose.

Ichigo's heart broke. He kept quiet, though, sensing that empty words of comfort would not be appreciated. Instead, He flung his arm around Grimmjow's chest and squeezed, hoping that the gesture would convey enough. It was insane how much he wanted to make Grimmjow feel better. Was it only a day since they met?

Just as he thought Grimmjow had fallen asleep, Ichigo felt a kiss on top of his head, then Grimmjow squeezed him back.

* * *

**To be continued**


End file.
